At Home After the Fight
by angrymermaids
Summary: The Lieutenant failed. He will do everything in his power to make it right again, and Amon knows it. Written for White Lotus LNYE 2013.


**A/N**: This was my entry in the 2013 White Lotus exchange on DW, for Kyuuketsukirui. First time writing anything LOK, woo! Lieumon was totally canon and no one can tell me otherwise.

I came up with a name for the Lieutenant in this, I hope it doesn't step on your toes.

* * *

He had failed.

He'd never failed this badly before. Always served Amon and his fellow Equalists swiftly and effectively, bringing about their great and glorious cause with no thoughts about his own recognition.

He was a sacrifice to the cause. He wasn't a thinker or a speaker. He could fight. He could kill. He made policemen and triad thugs alike disappear, who like all benders, existed only to intimidate those weaker than themselves. He had trained himself for years to make himself the equal of any bender in Republic City. Amon was the brains and the voice, he was the muscle. That was his only job.

And yet he had failed.

"I told you not to underestimate her." Amon's voice, usually so smooth, carried a deep growl that made the lieutenant's shoulders tense.

He hadn't underestimated her. She just…

Fucking benders.

"Clean up after yourself, Lieutenant, and then meet me back at headquarters. I'm going to send a wire to Sato."

Amon turned away from him then, and the lieutenant clamped down hard on the half-formed apologies and explanations for his failure that were bubbling up in his throat. It would be improper, especially in front of the Equalists. The lieutenant was no charismatic leader, but at least he could keep from embarrassing himself in front of the people he had trained from day one.

Amon disappeared into the snowfall. The lieutenant shook himself a little and turned to the Equalists behind him.

"Clean everything up. Dispose of any evidence you can find. We're leaving here in ten minutes."

"What about the Avatar?" asked a chi-blocker.

"She's irrelevant. She won't be able to stop us fast enough, even if she does make it back to the city." The lieutenant pointed to the truck containing the former councilman Tarrlok. "Drive him back to HQ. Make sure you're not seen."

"It will be done, brother."

All around him, Equalists milled about, working and packing everything away with their usual swiftness. He looked down at the snow and tried to wrestle the guilt of his failure out of his mind.

For years now, they'd been together. Even when Amon was speaking to the homeless on the slum streets and his lieutenant was breaking the kneecaps of every "insurance salesman" that tried to relieve them of their meager factory wages, they'd made it work.

He'd never failed before.

On the way back into the city, the lieutenant tried to occupy his mind with tomorrow's work instead of dwelling on how that half-trained bitch could have escaped. Amon would still be displeased with him once they met again, but maybe he could earn back his respect if he performed twice as well as ever.

Hopefully. Maybe.

* * *

Amon did not return to headquarters for several hours.

While he waited, the lieutenant found the only radio station that was still broadcasting music, fuzzy as it was, and busied himself with re-wrapping the handles of his kali sticks by the flickering light of the bulb that was the front room's only illumination.

Sato had offered Amon a lavish living, but he had turned it down, saying that he wished to live as his brothers and sisters lived. He and the lieutenant shared a cramped two-room apartment just above headquarters. There was a hot plate, but neither of them could cook, so they ate from corner stands just like every other working person in the city. They usually had electricity and the water usually ran both hot and cold.

All things considered, it was a lot better than how they used to live.

The lieutenant was humming along to a scratchy jazz section when he heard the steady, methodical sound of Amon's boots on the stairwell outside. He reached up and turned off the radio.

Nothing was out of place when Amon came in. He smelled a little like cold air and cooled sweat, but as always, the impassive mask betrayed no emotion. He crossed the front room without saying a word and ducked behind the curtain that led to the bedroom.

"Come here, Sho."

The lieutenant unconsciously gave himself permission to use his own name again.

He followed Amon into the bedroom. He had planned to offer some sort of apology for his failure, but he lost the words before they formed on his tongue, and he stayed silent. No talking, then. Just their evening routine.

Sho stepped forward and took hold of Amon's right arm guard, blocking out the silence by concentrating on undoing the snaps and laces and silently sliding it off before starting on the other.

The leather overtunic loosened under Sho's practiced fingers and he carefully lifted it over Amon's head, trying not to disturb the mask. Amon could undress himself, of course, just like he could dress himself again in the morning, but Sho liked to do it for him.

It was about maintaining equality, in a way. Maintaining momentary control over his clothes and body when even Sho knew that their relationship was not nearly as equal as Amon's rhetoric.

What did it matter? Amon loved him. Amon loved loyalty, whether it came from fear or admiration or both.

Sho made quick work of his boots and set them side by side next to the door. They were still damp from the snow.

"Sato will be ready with the airship fleet first thing in the morning," Amon said. "I want you on the ground until I call for you. I'll need you to take Air Temple Island."

"It will be done."

"Good." Amon sounded pleased. Clad only in black cotton shirt and trousers, he looked smaller and less closed-off. He smoothed back his short, dark hair where it stuck up after a long day in his hood.

He kept his mask on. It had taken so long for him to be able to blindfold Sho so that he could take his mask off and kiss him, for him to trust that Sho wouldn't peek. A small part of the lieutenant still clung to hope that Amon would one day trust him to just keep his eyes closed, but perhaps it was best to give that up.

Sho didn't want to see his face. Well, that was a lie; he'd been curious since the day they met. But Amon didn't want to show his face, and that was fine with Sho. He wouldn't ask.

Amon lay down on the mattress and put his hands behind his head. The mask retained its secretive smile, but he sighed and Sho imagined what sort of exhausted expression he might have underneath. He sat down next to him a little hesitantly. There was still a question on his tongue. He wanted to hear some sort of reassurance, a word of forgiveness or understanding.

"I'm not angry with you," Amon said simply. He could always sense what Sho was thinking.

"I won't fail again."

"I know you won't." With one hand, Amon tugged at the ties on the front of Sho's shirt. Sho took it off the rest of the way and lay down next to him. He faced away from him. As much as he liked to lull himself to sleep by following the lines of Amon's body beneath his clothes, he couldn't look at him just yet.

They were quiet for several long minutes. Then Sho heard Amon turn onto his side and felt the barest hint of breath on the back of his neck. The edge of the mask tickled his shoulder.

"The day of reckoning is upon us, Sho." Amon's voice was barely more than a purr. "First we'll cripple the Council, and then the Avatar, and we'll make her watch while we sweep forward. We'll succeed where Sozin failed and rid the world of airbending. Then we'll take out every last bending cop in Republic City. We won't have to do anything else after that. Just watch as the nonbenders rise up against those that enslaved them for so many generations."

A shiver ran up Sho's spine. It always tingled to hear Amon speak, in public or private, it didn't matter. There was so much conviction behind his words, not to mention power and will necessary to carry out that conviction. Amon must have seen the ripple of goosebumps on Sho's back, because he traced the line of the spine beneath his lieutenant's skin with a gentle finger.

"We'll rule the city. Together."

"I'm not a ruler," said Sho.

"It will be no different than it always was. Only this time you won't have to work in the shadows." Amon's touch could have only belonged to a chi-blocker. He knew Sho's body better than Sho himself did. He knew what hurt, what soothed, and what made him moan. His hand was strong and confident on his side and back, rubbing sore muscles and breaking him down into a relaxed puddle.

"I can do that."

"We won't stop with Republic City," Amon murmured. "We'll destroy the Fire Lord's line and their barbaric system of dueling to determine the worth of individuals. We'll tame the Earth Kingdom swamps and the savages that live there. We'll drive them and the sandbenders to civilization when we cleanse them of their impurity. We'll level Ba Sing Se, not with war, but with words, and there will be neither lower nor upper rings when the people have deposed their masters. We'll take the Water Tribes. Those fools still think bending is sacred. But we'll show them what cruelty it really is. All we need to do is plant a seed. It will grow, and consume, and soon the world will know the truth."

That was why Sho loved him. He made him believe again. Years of abuse at the hands of the tyrannical benders of Republic City had all but squashed that out of him, but Amon made him believe that it could be better. He made him believe that he was important. Valuable. More than just a steelworker that could be replaced at the drop of a hat.

That was why he kept going. He wanted to believe that it wasn't all in vain.

"I'll follow you anywhere."

"I know." Warm lips pressed against Sho's shoulder, but they were replaced by the cool touch of the mask as soon as the lieutenant realized what had happened. "I'm counting on it."


End file.
